


Get Harry

by bottledyarn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledyarn/pseuds/bottledyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn gets sick and the boys need Harry's help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Originally by request on my tumblr.

 

            None of the others had noticed that something was wrong until Zayn suddenly thumped down onto a stranded speaker, hunching over towards his knees.

            “Zayn?” Niall asked confusedly. “That’s not a chair.”

            Zayn didn’t respond- he just kept staring down at the ground, his head almost between his knees.  He was breathing rather heavily, his back heaving dramatically.

            “You okay, mate?” Louis asked, patting his back lightly.

            Louis left his hand there momentarily, noticing that Zayn was physically trembling. 

            “He’s shaking,” Louis commented, turning towards Liam.  “Did he say anything earlier?”

            “No…” Liam said, shaking his head and peering at Zayn. “He was pretty quiet.”

            Zayn pressed his hands against either side of his head, his breathing getting heavier. 

            The three stared at him, wondering what they were supposed to do in this situation.  Zayn suddenly jumped to his feet, his eyes wide.

            “Stop touching me!” he exclaimed, shaking away Louis and bolting out of the tiny storage room they’d been told to wait in.

            “Huh,” Niall said as the door banged shut. “We should probably go after him.”

            Louis ran out after Zayn, finding him sitting against the wall in the hallway, knees pressed against his chest.  His eyes were frantic, and he was obviously sweating.

            Louis made sure that he didn’t stand too close to Zayn.  “Are you okay, Zayn?” he asked carefully, crouching.  “You’re kind of scaring us.”

            Zayn looked up, squeezing his eyes shut a few times in a row. “I…” he took a little gasping breath and his eyelids fluttered for a moment. “I don’t feel very good.”

            “What is it?” Niall asked.

            “I’m just really dizzy and it’s just too warm,” Zayn groaned, pressing his head against his knees. “I want to go home.”  
            “Is everything blurry?” Liam asked.

            Zayn nodded, sniffling. “My head feels like it’s on fire.”

            “Just breathe slowly,” Louis said, almost reaching out to touch his arm and then pulling his hand back.

            Zayn had never experienced anything quite like this before. It had come on quite suddenly- one moment he was fine, the next he was dizzy, his heart was racing, he was shaking, tingly, hot, and felt sick…it was all very strange.  The worst part was the anxious jumpiness of his thoughts- he desperately wanted to get out, run away, escape, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to run from, he just _needed_ to. 

            The other boys were blurry, loud figures surrounding him, only half of their words really reaching him. The world swam around him every time he opened his eyes, and every time he closed his eyes, a psychedelic pattern of red flashes pounded through his brain.

            He started taking off layers- his jacket, his long sleeve shirt, his shoes, his socks- until he was a barefooted boy in a thin t-shirt and jeans, sprawled in a random hallway, panting like a dog.

            “Should we call someone?”

            “I don’t know…”

            The voices came in and out, their wavelengths quivering and remaining in his ears for a long time until he heard distinct words again.

            “It’s going to be okay,” Louis said. “Nothing can hurt you here.”

            The words only made it worse- _anything_ could hurt him here, he was exposed, he could die, he could get a phone call telling him that everyone he loved was dead, he was vulnerable.

            “Should we get Harry?” Niall asked, his voice piercing back into Zayn’s consciousness.

            “Would he be able to help?” Liam asked.  “Maybe we should go to a hospital.”

            “Shouldn’t there be people coming through here?” Louis asked. “Maybe I can find someone.”

            “What would they do, stare at him and tell some stupid rag magazine later?” Niall asked. “I’m texting Harry.”

            The voices blurred out again, and Zayn tried to breathe steadily- he really did- but his breath kept gasping out, uncontrollable and uncomfortable.  They were shouting now, wordless calls between each other. He couldn’t pinpoint any of the words; it was just meaningless, garbled shouts.

            A hand touched his arm and he shrunk away, feeling his heart rate pick up even more, the thumping in his ears erratic and fast. The world was pressing in on him, loud and constricting.

            He wasn’t sure how much time passed- it felt like forever, the noises and light swirling around him as his brain kept firing new horrible waking nightmares at him. 

            Someone grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him slightly, making him open his eyes. Their face was blurry and doubled, but as it was the only thing in his tunnel-vision, he managed to focus and see that it was Harry.

            “Harry,” he said, barely managing the small word.

            Harry pressed a hand to Zayn’s forehead, his own forehead crinkling as he did so.  “Maybe we should go to a hospital.”

            “What will they do, tranquilize him?” Niall asked.

            Zayn’s vision swirled again and he blinked, trying to get rid of the hazy fog that had covered his line of sight.

            “I’ll be right back,” Harry said, jumping up and disappearing. He returned moments later with a folded, wet paper-towel that he pressed against Zayn’s forehead. Rivulets of water ran down Zayn’s cheeks, getting in his eyes and mouth.

            A long time passed, the world occasionally straightening out only to blur back into dizziness.  Looking back on it, Zayn couldn’t really remember the exact moment that his body stopped panicking, that his brain stopped insisting that he was in danger.

            He’d fallen asleep after a few minutes with Harry there- Harry had cooled him down and started saying quiet little comforts, doing his best to soothe him, and it had apparently worked.

            After Zayn had fallen asleep, Harry had carefully picked him up, carrying him to the rehearsal area that they’d been waiting to go into.  Only a half an hour or so had passed since the beginning of it, but to all of the boys it felt like ages.  Zayn woke up on the floor, the boys and a few other random backstage people crowded around him.

            There were of course a few press leaks about it- a few stories titled things like ‘Zayn Malik under too much stress??’ and ‘One Direction’s Zayn suffering panic attacks??’.

            They didn’t bother Zayn as much as they did the other boys- Harry nearly punched a reporter who kept asking them about it.  Zayn didn’t have another episode for years, and it was a small one, lasting only a few minutes.  That time, at least, the people with him knew to call on Harry.


End file.
